Asking for Directions
by Spunk.Ransom.Is.Love
Summary: Ella Chamberlain has lived with piracy since she was born. After she sees her mother murdered in front of her by the evil Captain Malachi Reynolds, she sets out on an adventure to find herself With the help of Captain Jack Sparrow, of course! .
1. Prologue: The Beginning

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Disney characters and all that jazz. The characters that are not familiar are mine.

**Summary:** Ella Chamberlain has lived with piracy in her life since she was born. After seeing her mother brutally murdered right before her eyes, her father, Captain Evan Chamberlain of the pirate ship La Lune du Soleil, takes her in, teaching her the ropes of piracy. Later, she receives her father's pirate ship and a precious necklace as a birthday present. Some years later she goes on an adventure with the famous Captain Jack Sparrow to find herself, her mother's killer, and The Lost City of Atlantis.

**A/N:** Hello everyone and welcome to my lovely fan fiction. Yayyyy. It probably seems a little cliché, but please give it a chance. I'll try not to let you down. This is the first fan fiction that I've had enough courage to post on this website so please REVIEW! Even if you hate it, let me know what I can do to fix it! No flames though. Be encouraging. And remember: reading without reviewing is like stealing.

**Prologue**

Piracy has been a part of my life since the day that I was born, and it all started when my father met my mother.

My father was a good man even though most people thought otherwise because of his choice in profession. He became interested in piracy at a young age, and once he started he found that he could not stop his nasty habit of pillaging and plundering every port that his ship docked at. Unfortunately, he had two weaknesses that his enemies would explore numerous times, and they just so happened to be his daughter and wife.

Evan Chamberlain, my father, first had the pleasure of laying his sapphire eyes on my mother at a routine stop for supplies at a little port in Spain. He spotted her from the main deck of his majestic pirate ship, La Lune du Soleil, as his crew moved around him like worker ants readying the ship to dock. My mother stood gracefully behind a vendor's stand, selling all types of exotic fruit, trying to make a respectable living for herself. He stared at her slack jawed and called to his first mate and best friend, Winston Scott.

"She mus' be the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of layin' me eyes on," my father said in a dreamy sigh as he pushed his bleached brown hair from his sticky, sweat covered forehead.

"Aye tha' she is" Winston replied nodding in agreement as he admired her movements from afar.

"I think I'll talk ter her"

"All righ' cap'n, but don't get yer hopes up," Winston said as he looked up to his captain with an expression of uncertainty.

"Wha'? Why not? I'm handsome aren't I?" My father asked sliding his hands down his thin, muscled torso.

Winston rolled his eyes skyward and sighed in apparent annoyance.

"Of course ye are Cap'n, but by my eyes she looks a bit...high maintenance."

"High maintenance ye say?" my father's uncertainty seeped into his words as he raised an eyebrow.

"Aye Cap'n, high maintenance"

"I'm gonna talk ter her."

"Good luck Cap'n," Winston replied as he walked away to get back to his duties of supervising.

My father looked back towards the beautiful woman who had unknowingly caught his attention. He straightened his muscular, tan shoulders and took off at a jaunty speed down the newly lowered wooden gangplank. As he walked, he watched the attractive woman attentively as the light sea breeze blew her long chocolate brown tresses into knots. Her emerald orbs scanned her merchandise looking for imperfections among the delicate fruits that littered her rickety oak stand. Her exposed tanned shoulders gleamed brilliantly in the unforgiving brilliant yellow sun. As my father approached her cautiously, he could see that she was slightly taller than most women were. He stopped a few feet away and let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding in.

_ Alright Evan_, he thought to himself, _Ye can jus' say hullo._

My father put on his best brave face and marched up to her, dignity in each step.

The woman looked up from her fruits as he approached and threw a dazzling smile his way. My father sauntered up to the stand, picked up a lime green apple, and inspected it with a critical eye.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asked in a thick Spanish accent.

My father glanced up from the apple and noticed her looking at him with look of curiosity in her emerald orbs. After studying her face, he decided to come right out with what had been pulling at the corners of his mind ever since he first saw her onboard his ship.

"One day I'll marry ye an' take ye away from this place and show ye adventure," he said with conviction in his voice, a sparkle in his eye, and apple still in hand.

The Spanish woman chuckled lightly as she pushed a few strands of her locks gracefully out of her eyes.

"What makes you so sure I'd marry a pirate?" she asked as she eyed my father's rough and dirty appearance.

"Wot's yer name?" my father asked smoothly as he deliberately avoided the question.

"Lolita Sanchez" she said, smirking as she plucked the apple from my father's hands with lightening speed and set it back among the fruits.

"Well Miss Sanchez, I'm Cap'n Evan Chamberlain of the pirate ship La Lune du Soleil and I happen to be quite the charmer."

"Well Mr. Chamberlain-"

"Cap'n Chamberlain," my father corrected involuntarily.

"My mistake...Captain Chamberlain, what makes you think so sure you will be the one doing the charming?" she asked flirtatiously as she arched her eyebrows in amusement at my father's dumbstruck face.

For once my father found himself completely at a loss for words and taken aback. Regaining his composure, he cocked an eyebrow and looked at her curiously trying to read her face.

"Come," Lolita said as she folded down the flaps to her stand indicating that the it was now closed, "I'll buy you a drink and we'll talk."

"If ye insist," my father said as Lolita gently tugged his arm towards the local tavern.

Without realizing it my mother and father had both found someone that accentuated their extreme and moderate personality traits which made them two peas in a pod. They instantly fell madly, head over heels, in love with each other and were married six months later. The ceremony was quite simple and lovely, and held on the main deck of La Lune du Soleil which was decorated accordingly for the occasion with white rose bouquets that hung from all sorts of places. The only witnesses to this union were Captain Chamberlain's crew. After a short and sweet reception below deck, my father announced that he would be giving his crew four months of leave so he could travel the world with his new wife. My father learned new languages, experienced new cultures, and discovered new worlds during his travels. When it came time to come home, my mother was already three months pregnant. Six months later my mother gave birth to a beautiful baby girl which she named Ella.

Both of my parents knew, however, that a pirate ship was no place to raise a child, especially a female child. My mother made the hard decision to stay with me on land at a small, but busy port that my father visited frequently between jobs. I lived my life like any child growing up, playing with the village children that were my age, learning how to be a nuisance, and eventually making some friends. Our little white cottage stood on the edge of the little seaside town, overlooking the ocean, away from the hustle and bustle of the busy port where merchants would come and go, bartering their goods away.

Our family lived a happy and prosperous life which was always filled with a certain longing to see each other after being separated for weeks at a time. Everything was as normal as it could be, and while my father was at sea, I grew up into a hyper toddler. Unfortunately, all of that ended on a warm summer day.

The day that changed everything happened six years after my parents had married. The day started off as any other but a bit more beautiful than usual with the sun hanging low in sky, making everything its rays touched sticky and hot. Threatening looking storm clouds rolled into port later that day off of the horizon. I skipped merrily outside to play on the boulders that littered our big grassy front yard. I climbed around on them, like a mountain goat pretending to be a pirate. I danced around with my fake stick sword, swinging it at invisible enemies. Suddenly, the anxious voice of my mother wafted to my ears.

"Ella! Get down from there this instant, before you hurt yourself!"

I quickly jumped down from the top of my pile and landed with a soft thud in the grass. I knew not to challenge my mother's orders, and mumbled to myself about how unfair she could be.

"Mother I wanna play!" I whined towards the house trying to look disappointed.

"No! Come in the house now. A storm is coming." my mother motioned her head with a careless nod towards the blackening skies as a crack of thunder rippled through the air.

I groaned mentally and stalked off towards the front door of my house, dragging my feet reluctantly. Once I stepped across the threshold of the front door, rain already had began to pelt the window panes and roof with its sing song sound of pit-pattering. It began slowly at first than steadily grew faster like an upbeat dancing song that I heard from the taverns late at night. I ambled leisurely into the kitchen still feeling sour about being yelled at. My mother stood stiffly at the fireplace as she tended to a pot on the crackling orange fire. The aroma of a vegetable stew reached my nose and filled the small room from floor to ceiling, making my mouth water and stomach growl in yearning. My mother heard my traitor of a stomach, and she turned sharply around and started scolding me for the umpteenth time that day.

"Ella, your clothes are filthy! I just washed them yesterday! You know better than to climb on those rocks. You could fall to your death on those things."

"What else can I do? There's nothing to do in this town," I grumbled secretly wishing I was sailing the high seas with my father. Oh how I missed him.

"What about your little friend Tommy?"

"I don't like him anymore," I grumbled.

"Ella I want none of that now. Go wash up for dinner," my mother said without sympathy turning back to the mantle of the fireplace. I observed her with narrowed eyes as she reached for the ladle that sat peacefully in the simmering brown liquid.

I stomped away, feeling sorry for myself, to the wash basin in the next room. I roughly picked up the bar of soap that smelled of lavender and rubbed it viciously across my arms and face removing any trace of dirt that might have found its temporary home on my skin. I had just finished rinsing off when someone grabbed my shoulder and jerked me around roughly. I came face to face with my mother. Her face was twisted into a mask of fear, and a sense of foreboding surged over me and caused knots to form deep in my stomach. I cringed as they turned in sickly movements almost causing me heave.

"Ella I need you to hide just like we practiced, okay?" she said to me voice and hands shaking slightly.

"What's wrong?" I asked barely moving my lips, in fear that I might still vomit.

"Never mind that dear, just go!" my mother pleaded me with her eyes.

I gave a quick little nod and ran off with my mother right on my heels. I galloped to the trap door that was built to be hidden underneath my mother's bed for when my father needed to stash a few goods. I stopped moving when I came to the bedside. I looked back at my mother and could see the tension in her shoulders and the obvious stress on her face.

"It's okay Ella quickly into the cellar," my mother encouraged me from the door frame. She looked back towards the front of the house, seeming quite panicked as if someone were about to jump out of the shadows and grab her from behind.

"I don't understand. Why don't you just come in here with me?" I asked a tear had formed in the pit of my eye. I squeezed it back with all my might not wanting my mother to see me cry.

A melancholy smile formed on my mother's face as she swept towards me, her eyes glassy. She scooped me up into a hug and whispered into my ear.

"Don't worry Ella your father should be here soon. Don't open the door for anyone unless it's your father or myself. Do you understand?" my mother asked as she thrust some bread into my quivering hands.

This time I couldn't stop the tears from spilling over. I sniffled as small rivulets cascaded down my cheeks dripping brusquely off of my chin. My mother reached up with her smooth hands and gently brushed my tears away with her thumb.

"I understand."

"Good. Now quickly into the cellar. I love you Ella with all my heart," she said as my head disappeared beneath the floorboards. I glanced up one last time, tears still streaming down my face, she nodded encouragingly and then turned abruptly and tip toed away.

I lowered my body into the small hole and shut the trap door over my head and securely fit the sliding lock into place. In the dark, ominous cellar I had no one but myself for company. Every sound I heard and every emotion that I felt was intensified a hundred fold. I felt a wave of nausea crash down on my head as I slowly became aware to the fact that the walls seemed to be closing in on me. My breathing and heartbeat increased to a jagged, unsteady rythm. I closed my eyes, begging the walls to stop teasing me. I swallowed down the hard lump that had formed in my throat and opened my eyes slowly allowing them to adjust to the room that was black as pitch.

No sooner had my eyes adjusted, that sounds of a muffled verbal fight pierced my once silent surroundings. I strained my ears with all my might to listen to what was being said above. After I tried and failed to understand what was being said, I decided to see if I could catch a glimpse of the action that was unfolding dramatically right above my head. I stood on my tip toes and braced my knees against the hard dirt walls. I undid the lock with shaky hands and creaked open the trap door slightly and as silently as I could. I congratulated my mother mentally when I saw that she had not closed the door to her room, and I now had access to view the kitchen from my secret perspective.

The kitchen now held four sets of boots. One set I immediately recognized as my mother's, but the other three were unfamiliar to me. I couldn't take my eyes off of one set of boots that were menacing and beautiful at the same time like the sea itself. They were made of expensive, shiny, black leather that had been scuffed and scratched at the toes from too much use. The letters MR were stitched into the heel of each shoe with thread that was the color of pure sunshine. The boots started to pace around my mother like a predator that stalked its prey.

"-listen Mrs. Chamberlain," said a cold menacing male voice I didn't recognize, "I'm lookin' for Evan...Is he here?"

"No he's not," my mother's voice quivered, "And he's not supposed to make port here for a couple of more weeks."

The voice chuckled then suddenly turned into a loud growl. I gasped in surprise as the man picked up our dinner table with ease and slammed it against the far wall. The table fell into a pile of a million pieces on the kitchen floor and an eerie silence crept across the room.

The black boots had stopped pacing directly in front of my mother who stood her ground courageously.

"Tell me Mrs. Chamberlain...do ye think ye can lie ter me? Or do ye think I'm just an imbecile?"

"No Reynolds I don't think I can lie to you," my mother spat in the man's face.

He stood deathly still as swept his hand up and calmly wiped the sticky saliva from his dirty cheek.

"Now, now tha' was rude...didn't ye think tha' was rude Jeremy?"

"Yes cap'n," replied another crude man.

"I thought so," Agreed the voice of Reynolds," I'll let it go fer now, but I need ter know where Evan is, and be aware that my patience is growin' thin."

"I already told you I don't know," my mother responded coldly.

Reynolds cold grey eyes examined my mother's form closely, and spoke with all emotion erased from his voice. "Very well, but before I leave, tell me...how is little Ella doing?"

"You won't touch her," My mother said ferociously. Her emerald eyes growing wide as she took step forward.

"That depends, my good woman, on how loud you scream."

I closed my eyes tightly and clamped a hand over my mouth to stop _myself_ from letting a scream escape. I braced myself for what I knew was coming. I heard the unsheathing of a sword. I heard as the sword twirled through the air. Suddenly, an agony filled scream ripped through the cottage as the sharpened steel pierced my mother's heart. The scream reverberated off the walls and sank down deep into my bones causing me to shake and tremble with a fear that I had never felt before. A calm and disturbing silence followed the offensive scream. I opened my eyes willing all of this to end and for my mother to be unscathed, but both I knew would be impossible. I gaped in horror as my mother's feet gave way to her weight, and she slumped limply to the floor. Her head lolled to one side as it hit the ground with a small thud. Her eyes locked with mine one last time and I saw fear and regret burned into her retinas as the fierce flame of her life slowly faded from her emerald orbs. A man kneeled down next to my fallen mother and declared her dead. I shut my eyes as another course of tears slipped out and ran their course down the length of my face.

"Cap'n Reynolds? Do ye wan' us ter look fer the girl? She would fetch a pretty large amount if we were ter hold her fer ransom," One of the men said.

"No Charlie, tha's quite all righ'," Reynolds sighed then chuckled maliciously, "That was a good scream. Besides we wan' to leave Cap'n Chamberlain with a bit of incentive to do wha' we wan' him to do."

"Aye, righ' ye are cap'n," said another voice.

"Return ter the ship with haste ye scabrous dogs!" Reynolds yelled, "Break out the rum. This calls fer a celebration."

The three men whooped and hollered as they ran out the front door. I waited in my hole until I heard the sound of the door clicking shut. I scrambled from my hole as fast as I could, forgetting that a bed sat on top of the door and managed to hit my head. Tears were crashed down my face like waves. I finally managed to pull myself out of the hole and sprinted to my mother's body and skidded to a halt by her head. I sank to my knees as a feeling of helplessness dropped on me like a ton of bricks. I wept as I cradled my mother's head in my lap. Abruptly, my head shot up frantically as the sound of hurried and heavy footsteps drew near from outside. I retreated to hiding behind the kitchen door just as the front door slammed open, rattling the window panes.

"Lolita," I heard the familiar voice of my father whisper, "Oh Lolita, I am so very sorry."

He reached down and caressed her pale cheek lovingly. He bowed his head as sobs racked his body as he began to shake violently. I observed from the shadows of the kitchen door

"Father?" I whispered meekly from my hiding place.

My father straightened up looking around trying to see into the shadows where I hid.

"Ella? Are ye there?"

I came out of my hiding place and threw my arms around my father's waist. I sobbed into his white cotton shirt. His hands snaked delicately around my neck and waist as he pulled me closer to him. We cried together well into the night and then after what was literally forever my father pulled away.

"Come now Ella, we need ter get back ter the ship. Go an' pack yer things quickly." he said sadly as he pushed me gently towards my room.

I ambled somberly into my room and packed the few belongings that I had into a canvas sack that I kept under my bed. I threw three changes of clothes into the sack and heaved it over my shoulder and walked back out to my father who had draped a sheet over my mother's lifeless body. My father looked up as I entered the room and smiled the best smile he could muster.

"Time ter go," he said wearily reaching for my hand. I slipped my small, fragile hand into my father's calloused ones. He led me through the kitchen and towards the front door.

"Now Ella be strong don' lo-look back," he stammered his voice breaking as another tear slithered out of his eye.

I walked out the door stumbling slightly over my own two feet and did what my father told me. I didn't look back.

The next morning I woke up in my father's soft down bed after a restless night of wading in and out of my frightful dreamland where Reynolds face floated relentlessly through the depths of my mind. I had gotten out of bed and had dressed when a knock rattled the Captain's quarter's door.

"Yes? Who is it?" I asked as I straightened my breeches.

"It's me Ella," said the gloomy voice of my father.

"Come in."

He opened the door and crossed the room in three strides. He pulled me into a bear hug.

"I guess there's some things we need ter talk abou'," My father sighed as he hung his head.

I nodded my head in agreement. "That man Reynolds, who is he? What did he want with mother? And what does he want with you?"

"That be Cap'n Malachi Reynolds, Cap'n of the pirate ship The Red Serpent. His piratin' methods are celebrated among the most evil of pirates tha' roam the Caribbean and Mediterranean sea. He murders and rapes woman and children without so much of a second thought.

"When I was a young and eager boy, I sailed with him on the ship The Crashing Wave as a deckhand. I guess ye could say he was somewhat of a mentor ter me especially since he happened ter be a couple o' years older. He tried to recruit me to his crew, but I refused saying that I wanted a crew of me own, and that was the last I saw of him until about 8 months after having married Lolita, and a month before ye were born.

"Rumors say that af'er havin' his own ship for awhile he began to change as his lust for treasure and glory planted a dark kernel in his heart He had obviously changed from the last time I saw him, but I ignored it and stupidly introduced Lolita to him. After ye were born, he blackmailed me into finding a lost map. He told me that if I didn't he would kill ye and yer mother.

"I found the map with much difficulty and after I handed the map over to him he promised that both of ye would be safe, but soon after he he promised not ter hurt ye or yer mother he realized that a key was needed to read the map. A key tha' I didn't have, and a key where I had no idea where to start lookin' for it. I received news from one of me informants at the Havana port that Reynolds was comin' after ye and yer mother. I got here as fas' as I could…obviously it wasn't fas' enough though," he finished his story with a mixture of hate, regret and sadness transfixed onto his face.

I sat silently now knowing what to say. I grabbed my father's hand and pulled him into another hug.

"Father," I whispered into his ear as I nuzzled into his neck, "What are we going to do now?"

"We are goin' ter run, and keep runnin'. I can't afford ter lose ye too," he muttered as he pulled away once again, "But fer now let's say goodbye ter yer mother."

My father raised me after my mother died and he brought me up the only way he knew how: as a pirate. I lived a life far better than any life that I could have had in an orphanage. My father taught me everything my mother didn't have the chance to teach me such as how to cook, sew, and sail. He also taught me how to read and write and to speak different languages. My father tried to keep me locked away from the dangers that came with a life out on the open sea, but once he realized that that would be impossible he taught me how to defend myself. He showed me how to use every type of weapon that he had been taught over the years. The crew, much to my father's dismay, also taught me how to be an expert pickpocket and thief. The ship slowly became my home and the crew my family.

I steadily grew up into a hormonal teenager and started flirting with boys at each port we stopped at (a shock my father still has not gotten over). By the time I became sixteen years old I had become a skilled swordsman and a stealthy thief. I often made comments to any crew member that would listen about how I was going to become the most famous pirate in the Caribbean.

On my eighteenth birthday I awoke with a start, my face and the small of my back drenched in a cold sweat. I dreamt of the night my mother had been murdered. I kept my eyes closed tight, trying to erase the laughing face of Reynolds from my mind. A fresh wave of hate washed over me as I yawned loudly and finally cracked my eyes open, breaking the thin layer of sleep that had formed during the night. Brilliant sunlight streamed in the small port hole of my cabin and hit me squarely in the face causing me to squint. I yawned loudly and stretched my stiff limbs. I leaped gracefully out of bed and pulled on a pair of forest green breeches and an off white cotton shirt. I picked up my black leather belt that had been strewn across a chair in the corner of my barracks and pulled the belt across my stomach, draping it low on my hips. I bent over and stuffed my feet into my dark brown, scuffed leather knee high boots. When I finished dressing, I armed myself accordingly. I strapped a small dagger onto my left boot, strung my cutlass sheath to my belt, and holstered two pistols. I tied my unruly curly brown hair into a ponytail with a shred of cloth that I kept tied around my wrist. I examined myself in the mirror that hung loosely on the wall. I smiled at my reflection, and my azure eyes smiled too.

"Today you're eighteen," I said aloud and a matter-of-factly trying to see if I changed dramatically in appearance during the night.

Satisfied that I had not changed in any way, I smoothed my shirt and walked out of my room and mounted the creaky oak stairs to the main deck. The crew bustled around working quickly and accurately as my father's voice shouted out new orders from the helm. Upon seeing me, Winston came over from his work station and embraced me in a rib breaking hug

"Happy birthday Ella! I can't believe yer eighteen," he said exasperated as he pulled away and held me at arms length to get a good look at me, "Ye are the spittin' image of yer mother. I can't believe how ol' ye and I are both gettin'."

"Yeah you're starting to look it too," I observed as I motioned towards his grey, thinning hair.

"Ouch tha' hurt ye know. A direct blow to me ego tha' was," he said in mock hurt, "kiddin' aside yer father would like ter see ye, but before ye go this is a present from me and the crew."

He pulled out a thin package and put it carefully into my hands. I smiled a small smile as I carefully opened the tiny lid off of the box and peered inside. Laying in the box was a nine inch steel dagger with a crescent moon and sun engraved into the wooden handle.

"Oh Winston it's beautiful. I love it," I said as I replaced the old dagger on my left boot with the glistening new one.

"Well I'm gla' ye like it. The crew was worried. Well I better get back to work before yer father has me guts fer garters."

"All right, thanks again Winston," I called to him as he staggered back to his post against the smooth waves that rocked the ship. He waved his hand lethargically in response, than quickly grabbed some ropes and started tying secure knots.

I made my way up the stairs that lead to the helm and to where my father stood guiding the ship. I smirked at my father as he caressed the wooden helm with love. His unruly brown hair blew around in a spastic frenzy, and his coat flapped violently around his shins. My father turned and waved at me as I approached.

"Good morning father, how's the sailing going? Smooth I hope," I greeted looking out to sea to inspect the cerulean waves.

"Aye, the ocean is at peace today. Great conditions for sailing, but I think we have more important business to attend to," he said looking at me with a twinkle in his eye.

I smiled a knowing smile as I put a finger to my chin, thinking.

"And what would that be father?"

He scoffed in mild amusement. "Why yer birthday present of course."

"Oh...well there is that," I replied picking the dirt from my nails.

He smiled as I watched him dig around eagerly into his worn navy blue coat pocket before withdrawing a worn piece of parchment and placing it neatly into my hands.

"Oh father a piece of paper...You shouldn't have!"

"Ella shu' up fer once an' jus' read the damn thing," my father replied as he placed his fingers to his temple.

I clamped my lips shut, the corners twitching, aching to release my suppressed grin as I unrolled the paper eagerly. My eyes scanned the parchment fiercely. I gaped at the words not believing them to be true. I read and re-read the words and they remained the same much to my surprise. My father had made me the owner and the new captain of La Lune du Soleil.

"Happy Birthday my sweet Ella," he said upon seeing my shocked expression. He pressed a chaste kiss to my check and turned back to the helm, humming an unfamiliar tune.

"Father? Are you sure about this? I mean you just made me Captain. Am I even ready to lead a whole crew of men? What are _YOU_ going to do? And is the crew even going to except me as their new captain?" I asked feverishly eyes going wild.

My father chuckled deeply. "My dear gel, I _am_ sure about this and ye are ready. I have taught ye e'erything I know about piracy. Plus I already spoke ter the crew and they are fine with the change. Besides I think it's time I explore the adventure of retirement."

I stared at him, my mouth gaping open in utter surprise.

"Oh my...you? Retiring? Is that even possible after living a life of nothing but adventure?"

"I believe I've had me share of adventures, and it's time I pass on the ship ter someone who still has their youth," my father said matter-of-factly scratching the side of his nose.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this," I gulped looking out to the busy crew.

"Of course ye are Ella. Just remember what I taught you."

"'The way to treasure is just beyond the horizon' how can I forget father? You practically drilled that phrase into my head."

"That's not all," my father said fiddling with something that hung around his neck.

"You have more advice to give me? Well father, aren't you in a generous mood this morning," I teased slapping his shoulder lightly.

"It must my old age...but that's beside the point, here," he said unlatching the necklace he had been fiddling with and clasped it around my neck.

I picked up the heavy charm and gasped. The necklace was the picture of perfection. The statuesque sun charm hung delicately on the silver chain and was made from pewter. A ruby the size of a large button sat in the center and glistened in the real sunlight. It was beautiful.

I dropped it tenderly, letting it fall to my chest, "Father where did you get this?"

"Oh ye know jus' something I picked up along the way. Be careful with it," he warned. I thought I caught a look of fear in my father's eyes as I ran my thumb over the delicious stone, but as soon as the look came, it vanished.

"What do you mean, father?" I asked raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Nuthin' just a valuable necklace is all," he sighed; "Now let's forget about that and celebrate yer birthday."

I smiled and threw my arms around his neck in a huge hug and whispered my thanks into his ear. He returned my hug lovingly, then stepped out of the way and offered me the helm.

**A/N:** **I hope you enjoyed the extremely long prologue. I also hope that you stick with this story. It may seem a little boring now, but I promise it will get better if you give it a chance. Remember: Reviews are love.**


	2. Chapter 1: Rain, Rain Go Away

**Disclaimer:** I do now own any of the Disney characters, oh how I wish I did though. I only own the characters that are original in this story.

**A/N:** Okay readers, I had _**53**_ hits on this story and only _**one**_ review. Please, please review. Just a couple of words is okay, let me know that you're there and interested. It would be greatly appreciated.

**Chapter 1: Rain, Rain Go Away**

**8 years later...**

Night had fallen over Tortuga as the never ending rain seeped steadily down from the black clouds that blanketed the chaotic pirate haven, washing the town of its distinct smell of rum, dirt, and sweat. The street lamps had long since been sizzled out and were now pouring a mixture of half solidified wax and water onto the sloppy, muddy streets. An unsettling thick, white mist had settled itself stubbornly around the shops and ships making it impossible to walk outside and even more impossible to sail. The smallest and raunchiest of the taverns that lined the deserted marshy streets were packed to the brim with all types of pirates, wenches, merchants, and sailors. All of whom were desperately trying to escape the dreadful downpours and thick fog that had plagued the Caribbean for a full week. The Faithful Bride held the most interesting of these people that were stranded on the island until the storms dissipated.

I sat slouched over a mug of rum, staring idly out a window at the Faithful Bride that was smeared with many layers of dirt and grime, packed in on all sides uncomfortably by my glum looking crew. I felt bad for the poor buggers sitting there, looking completely lost and bored. Without sailing both they and I were nothing, just dirty people not getting paid. Jacob, A fat, balding man that stood behind the bar every night, watched the crowd with his beady, hawk eyes as he wiped several mugs dry on his apron that clung to his waist. Jacob had been a family friend for as long as I could remember, and whenever my crew and I docked, he let us stay at the inn he kept above the tavern for free. I waved at him from across the sea of people, catching his attention. He grinned and waved back, clumsily dropping a glass mug in the process. I smiled an apologetic smile and turned back to watch the crowd of people that continued to expand in numbers, like breeding rabbits. Bar wenches ran around everywhere answering the calls for more drinks, and trying to please the large and demanding crowd. Whores flashed their assets to any person who happened to look their way.

"Winston is this bloody rain ever going to end? I want to get off of this rock sometime this century," I complained loudly over the boisterous noise of the tavern as I fingered the sun charm that hung loosely around my neck.

"I sure 'ope so, Cap'n," Winston muttered staring intently into the murky substance that filled his mug, "The crew is gettin' a might stir crazy jus' sittin' aroun'...doin' nuthin'."

I nodded in agreement, plopping both of my legs down on the defaced table as I dropped the loose hold I had on my necklace. It collided solidly with my chest and I reacquainted myself with its familiar weight.

"Aye, even if this is Tortuga, I can only stand it for so long," I sighed taking a giant swig from my mug, letting the amber liquid slide down my throat with ease, leaving a burning sensation behind, "The smell alone is enough to drive anyone barking mad. Besides that, I crave freedom and the horizon. I don't fancy the idea of sitting around all day getting drunk with a bunch of dirty old men."

My crew narrowed their eyes at me.

"Well do ye think we enjoy gettin' drunk with ye Cap'n?" asked my crew member named Samuel.

"I don't see how you couldn't. I am a very fun drunk," I smiled, leaning back in my chair as I laced my fingers neatly behind my brown locks.

A few of the men snorted. I shot a glare at the ones that dared laugh at me. I smirked in satisfaction as they turned their heads away, determined not to make eye contact.

"At least I can hold my liquor, Sam" I snapped, "You all remember the last time dear Samuel was drunk?"

A round of laughter escaped the lips of my crew. Sam shook his head, begging us to stop poking fun at him as his ears turned a deep shade of crimson.

"Aye don' we all Cap'n. Poor Sam will ne'er live tha' down. Especially since the person he tried wooing was a man," chuckled a deckhand named Isaac.

"If tha' wasn't a woman, I'd like ter see some papers," snapped Sam trying to defend what little of his pride he had left, "She was wearin' a dress!"

"And facial hair," I added innocently, winking at him.

The table burst into another fit of laughter as Sam stood up from his chair angrily and started to swagger away to nurse his bruised ego and pride. I pouted my lip at him as he strode by me, head held high, looking straight ahead. The crew watched in interest as he sauntered up to a rough looking blond whore who stood seductively by a wall, obviously on the prowl for her night's customer.

"Make sure this one's a woman, mate," called Isaac from his seat.

Sam threw a dirty look at us over his shoulder as he pulled his night time companion up the stairs to his assigned room.

The men threw back there heads in laughter again as his feet disappeared up the stairs and out of sight.

"Leave him alone, men. He's off to have himself a good time," I ordered and the ringing laughter died away slowly.

After Sam had left, the crew, one by one, unlatched themselves from their mugs and retired for the night, most with a companion following close behind them with a greedy look on their painted faces. The clock on the wall tolled twelve, and everyone had left but Winston who kept looking over his left shoulder at a pretty red head that giggled loudly every time they made eye contact. I eyed Winston suspiciously.

"What are you still doing here? Did you have something to tell me?" I asked, raising a scarred eyebrow.

"Didn't wan' you to drink alone is all, but now tha' ye mentioned it I 'eard a story from one of the whores tha' Cap'n Jack Sparrow is docked here as well. Have ye 'eard any of the stories from his adventures? They are quite amazin'." Winston rambled, positively drunk.

I scoffed. "Winston you got some drool on your chin."

Winston threw me a dirty look before slapping my back playfully.

"Wan' another?" Winston asked, motioning towards my empty mug, "I'm buying."

I thought about the extremely nice offer before replying.

"Ah, alas, no. I think I've had my share of rum for the night, but do go enjoy your evening. That red head over there keeps looking at you," I encouraged subtly, nodding to the red headed woman he couldn't keep his eyes off of.

"Thanks Cap'n," Winston said slyly as he gingerly got up from his seat, swaggering slightly.

"You might as well have a good time while we're here," I replied waggling my eyebrows at him.

Winston smiled, turning a shade of scarlet before swiveling on his heels to the red head that stood waiting patiently. After exchanging a few words, he casually slinked his arm around her delicate waist and led her upstairs. I sighed as he left, realizing I was alone at last. I placed my worn black tri corner hat over my eyes, blocking out any source of light the tavern emitted.

"God," I thought aloud, "I really need to get out of this place."

"Me too, luv," said a male voice as the sound of wood scraping against stone pierced the silence next to me, disturbing my peace that I had waited long to get.

"Sorry," I muttered quickly without removing my hat, "Seat's taken." I slid my booted feet hurriedly off the table and onto the wooden chair.

"Is it now?" asked a male voice, "I see no one sittin' here."

I snorted, "Believe me you don't want to be sitting there."

"I really think I do," said the man as he pushed my feet off the chair with a sweep of his hands. I lost my balance and pitched forward nearly falling from my seat. At the last possible moment I caught myself before I had the unpleasant chance of getting a little too friendly with the tavern floor. I felt my hat tumble from my face letting the offensive light hit my eyes. I moved my hands up with the grace and speed rivaled only by cats and caught my hat before it crashed to the ground.

Annoyed, I looked up at the man who now sat in Winston's previous seat, looking rather pleased with himself. I almost choked as I eyed his rather eccentric appearance. The man that sat before me looked completely ridiculous. His mane of dark brown dreadlocks was decorated with charms and braided thickly in the back. His hair was pulled back off of his face by a red bandana and topped off with a brown tri corner hat. His facial hair formed a scraggly mustache and a goatee that had been weaved into two braids. His chocolate brown eyes were rimmed in kohl and held the look of mischief and cockiness. When our eyes locked he smiled an aggravating smile of gold and silver.

"Yes? Can I help you?" I asked bitterly, placing my hat roughly back on my head with more force than strictly necessary.

"Ye know...it's not e'erday that I see a woman walkin' around wearin' breetches," he observed motioning towards my wardrobe.

"Well, I'm not like most women," I snapped as my hand flew to my necklace out of habit.

"Aye, I'll agree with ye on tha'," he said as his eyes roamed my body suggestively.

I shook my head in disgust as I leapt up from my chair, prepared to leave this infuriating man where he sat. As soon as I stood up however he arose from his chair. I plopped back down in my previous seat and the man copied my actions.

"Ugh, what the bloody hell do you want?" I asked viciously.

"Such harsh words comin' from a fine woman like yerself," he said fingering his goatee braids.

"You still haven't answered my question mister...?" I said still seething.

"Cap'n Jack Sparrow, at yer service love," he purred.

I gaped at him in disbelief. At every port I visited in my years of traveling the seas, I met many characters who claimed to be the famous Captain Jack Sparrow, but this man that sat before me was the first man I actually believed that to be true.

"By yer shocked expression I'll assume ye 'ave 'eard of me," he gloated pompously as he swatted at a fly that had perched itself on his slender nose.

"Do not assume so much, Sparrow," I answered calmly, eyes flashing. "You do not know me. Besides I expected you to be taller."

"Well I am sorry to have not met yer standards."

"It's not your fault the stories make you out to be...more than what you really are."

He glared slack jawed at me as I gave a short smile and stood once again to leave. His calloused hand shot out and clamped around my thin wrist, pulling me back down into my seat. As soon as I fell back into my chair, I instantly wound my free hand into the front of his leather coat and yanked Sparrow forward until his face was only inches from my own.

"If you are Captain Jack Sparrow, as I suspect you are, why aren't you off drinking with your own crew or having your way with a whore?" I asked clutching the soft leather in my hand.

"My crew is sittin' over there," he nodded to a table on the other side of the tavern, "And fer yer information I've already been with pleasurable company this evening so my crew and I sort of 'ave a bet goin' on righ' now."

"Do I even want to know the vulgar details of said bet?"

"Well even if they are vulgar by yer ears, I'll tell ye anyway. The bet was I had to come back to the table knowing yer name, and I have divulged my real name. So could ye be so kind as ter return the favor?" he asked, rubbing his tongue along his bottom teeth.

"I don't think I'm in a very divulgatary mood this evening, Sparrow. Looks like this is one bet you won't win," I replied, prying his metal grip from my wrist and finally releasing his coat from my fingers.

He collapsed back into his chair and before he could retort, I noticed that Jacob, the bar keeper, now stood directly beside me, sweating and looking as though he had just seen a ghost. Sparrow broke the silence first.

"Aye? Can I help you?" he inquired impatiently, noticing Jacob for the first time, "Can ye see tha' we are busy?"

I rolled my eyes before addressing the obviously frightened man.

"Did you need something, Jacob?" I asked nicely.

"Cap'n Ch-Ch-Chamberlain..." he started.

"Wait a minute, yer Cap'n Evan Chamberlain? Yer one ter talk about the stories being wrong. I thought Cap'n Chamberlain was a man!" Sparrow exclaimed as he pointed an accusing finger at me.

"Shut up, Sparrow," I growled still looking at the man as he nervously wiped his brow, his eyes twitching toward the door in frantic movements, "What is it Jacob?"

"It's Th-Th-The Red Serpent Ella it jus' docked," Jacob forced out.

"The Red Serpent ye say? Seems ter me ye 'ave made some pretty powerful enemies Miss Chamberlain," Jack marveled.

"Not me...my father, but Reynolds has been after us both for twenty years," I breathed, not knowing why I had just shared this information.

I sat staring blankly at the nearest wall, letting this startling news sink in. After all my years of running from Reynolds he had finally caught up with me. My mind raced with many questions. How did he find us? How did he dock with all the mist swirling about? I swore under my breath, blaming the God forsaken rain for keeping me in one place too long.

"Wait a moment," Sparrow said puzzled, "I didn't know Evan had a daughter or that he had stopped cap'ning his ship for tha' matter."

I rounded on him faster than a pack of ravenous wolves. "Not many people did. Most of those who do know usually end up dead," I muttered looking at Jack's tanned and confused face. "Jacob, how long ago did he make port?"

"I don't know Miss, but it was long enough that he'll be 'ere any minute," Jacob explained.

I rubbed my sweaty palms together as I urged my mind to formulate a plan to get my crew members and myself out safely.

"Jacob, wake the crew and tell them to dress with haste," I spoke to him, voice quivering slightly. He sprinted up the stairs and out of sight just as the tavern door swung open with a slight creak of the rusty hinges.

The sounds of hysteric laughter, harmless chatter, and the occasional punch ceased instantaneously as Captain Malachi Reynolds and his crew glided smoothly through the door. I shrunk down back into my seat with Sparrow closely following my actions.

Reynolds scanned the people inhabiting the tavern with his cool, fierce grey eyes as a clap of thunder rang out just as the tavern door slammed shut, making many people jump in surprise. His looked just as I remembered him from so long ago.

"I am lookin' for the person who Cap'ns the ship La Lune du Soleil. If anyone can point him out, ye'll be rewarded beyond yer wildest dreams," Reynolds announced loudly, addressing the crowd.

I snuck a peek at Sparrow, half expecting him to be standing up pointing a long, ringed finger at the top of my head, but when I turned around I found that he sat in his chair picking dirt from out under his nails. I sighed in relief and turned back towards Reynolds who was now making his way around the tavern, looking for a familiar face. The sound of rushed footsteps carried down the stairs and into the silent tavern below. Reynolds' head shot up in interest as my crew hurtled themselves down the wooden staircase. I kicked myself mentally as they skidded to a halt and gaped in disbelief at who stood before them.

Reynolds smiled cruelly as he registered who had just practically thrown themselves into his lap.

"Well, gentlemen," Reynolds started licking his lips. "It indeed 'as been too long. How are you, Isaac? Sam? And my dear old Winston? Aged, I see, as we all undoubtedly 'ave." Reynolds crew laughed coldly, making my insides squirm.

The addressed men looked towards me shaking their heads faintly, begging me not to say anything. Winston, however, dropped his gaze to stare at something he had found interesting on the floor.

"So tell me, my friends," Reynolds continued as he walked closer to Charlie, my cook, unholstering his pistol, "Where be the great Cap'n Chamberlain? I 'ave somethin' that I 'ave been wantin' ter speak with him about fer a long time."

Silence.

No one in the tavern spoke or so much as moved a muscle as tension built in the air like a smothering blanket. I held my breath as I prepared to stand up, to save my crew, my family, from the lethal fate they were sure to meet. As I lifted my bottom from my seat, a strong hand came crashing down on my shoulder, catching me off guard, holding me firmly to my chair. I noticed the rings that decorated each finger.

"Sparrow? What the hell do you think your doing?" I hissed through my teeth.

He didn't get a chance to answer back.

"Chamberlain, ye coward. Would ye see a crew member of yers die than to come forward?" Reynolds asked now holding the gun to Charlie's head, "This was yer choice."

The noise the bullet made shattered the silence into a million pieces. I bit back a scream and a few of the wenches gasped in appalled shock as the bullet buried itself neatly in Charlie's head, splattering bloody rubies on the placid wall he had been standing in front of. His eyes rolled lazily to the back of his head. I flinched drastically when Charlie's lifeless body thumped backwards to the stone floor. Reynolds unholstered another pistol and now held it to Sam's temple. I tried standing up again, this time breaking Sparrow's hold on me. I stood courageously to my feet and Sparrow once again followed my actions as Reynolds whipped around.

I took two steps forward and watched as Reynolds got over the initial shock of seeing a woman stand up. His face held a puzzled look and then he recognized me as the little girl from so many years ago.

"Oh my, little Ella is tha' ye? Ye 'ave grown into a fine woman and af'er this be all over I might jus' have ter steal ye," he said winking at me as his eyes scanned my body, "And what's this? Cap'n Jack Sparrow? What are ye doin' 'ere?"

"Jus' stopped by to have a pint is all," he smiled, holding up his mug as if to toast, but never sitting back down in his chair.

"Aye," Reynolds said with a disbelieving tone before he turned back to me. "Where is yer dear father? He must be 'ere somewhere if yer 'ere."

"Actually," I corrected, "he's off somewhere enjoying retirement. La Lune du Soleil is my vessel now."

Reynolds' eyes darkened dangerously as he dropped the pistol from Sam's head. I breathed out a silent sigh, trying to soothe the feeling of hate that had bloomed in my stomach.

"Ye mean ter tell me yer father is off galavantin' around the Caribbean _without_ his daughter?"

"Is that so hard to believe? I grew up just like you said."

"But in the way of a pirate, yer mother would be quite ashamed," he sneered as he picked up an abandoned mug of rum.

I lost control of my rage and lunged at him, sword unsheathed, but once again Sparrow was there to hold me back.

"You don't know anything that my mother would have wanted! You murdered her in cold blood because she protected the man she loved, the pirate she loved!" I screamed and thrashed violently against the strong arms that held me firmly around my middle.

"Aye, and a foolish woman she was also. All of that protectin' she did was her downfall as it will be yers if ye don't tell me where yer father is," Reynolds growled, obviously losing what little patience he had.

"I don't know where my father is at. He is traveling the world at the moment and the last letter I received from him he was in Egypt," I lied coolly as I finally stopped my wiggling in Sparrow's arms and roughly yanked them away.

Reynolds hung his head and his chin length curly, black hair fell into his attractive, wrinkled covered face, hiding his piercing grey eyes.

"Everyone leave if ye wan' ter live, except ye Cap'n Chamberlain and yer crew."

Not one person made an attempt to move from their half rotten, wooden seats that they had claimed as their own earlier in the night. All of the men in the tavern turned to look at Reynolds in a disbelieving manner. I shook my head as the foolish people made it clear that they were not going anywhere even if God himself told them to move.

"No!" yelled a brave man near the back of the room, "Ye leave! Yer causin' all the trouble in this place."

A mumble of agreement filtered throughout the bar, each person nodding in quiet unison.

Reynolds mumbled to himself as he shook his head in disgust. He pulled his pistol that had been recently put to Sam's head out again and aimed it at a nearby bar maid. The onlookers of the tavern breathed in surprise as he squeezed the trigger and yet another unfortunate bystander lay dead at Reynolds' feet, scarlet blood oozing from the bullet hole.

"I'll start killin' e'eryone, one by one. Ye people don't stand a chance. Yer all piss drunk," Reynolds said coldly as he held his pistol out at arms length, pointing it to another random person.

The customers glanced at each other to see what to do. Abruptly, a man in the back shakily stood up and swaggered his way towards the door and promptly stepped outside, never once looking back. Soon after the first man took his leave, the whole contents of the Faithful Bride poured out onto the empty streets, all wandering in separate directions to find the nearest tavern. Sparrow walked by and shot me a look that said, "Good luck."

As the last man left, Reynolds spoke again as he calmly swished the rum in his mug around, "I bet tha' pretty lil' 'ead of yers is wonderin' how we were able to find ye even if ye did such a marvelous job of sweepin' up yer tracks."

"I was wondering that, yes," I replied simply as I chanced a glance at my nervous looking crew.

Reynolds smirked at me as he sauntered up to Winston and put a muscular arm around Winston's thick neck and pulled him forward out of cluster of men.

"I believe the proper term is 'spy', fer ye 'ad one in yer mists," Reynolds sneered as he pushed Winston stumbling forward, "Behold, the spy amongst yer faithful crew."

I almost passed out with shock. Reynolds had to be lying, but the way Winston's face looked, like a boy getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar, I knew that Reynolds spoke the truth. But Winston? Winston, who sat by me every waking moment when I stayed in bed sick? Winston, who told me stories and made me laugh? Winston, who was like an uncle to me? Tears welled up in the pit of my eyes as Winston finally had the decency to remove his gaze from the floor and look me squarely in the face.

"How could you? After all my father did for you, after all I did for you." I whispered not even bothering to hide the anguish and heart breaking betrayal I felt.

"No one was supposed to get hurt, Ella," he sighed, dropping formalities. "All he wants is the key, and your father must 'ave given it ter ye. He gave e'erthin' else he had ter ye."

The last part of his sentence came out bitter. I shook my head in disgust, trying to understand Winston's motives.

"You actually believed that Reynolds would not cause blood shed?" I turned to Reynolds who smirked at me, "This key you speak of I know nothing about. My father didn't give me a key. He only gave me his ship and a necklace."

Winston anxiously glanced over at Reynolds who stood staring out a window, towards the docks, a small smile played across his thin lips.

"Sir, I had no idea," Winston stuttered, holding up his hands, palms facing towards Reynolds' back, "Maybe he still 'as it then, an' if tha's the case the gel is tellin' the truth abou' 'er father's whereabouts."

Reynolds swung around without warning, throwing his glass mug against the wall, shattering it as he addressed his crew, "Men I've 'ad it with this crew, their ship and their noncompliant Cap'ns. Kill the crew and burn the ship. As for the Cap'n...bring her ter me."

Winston's body went rigid as the look on Reynolds crew's faces turned into a ferocious, animalistic mask and they advanced on his position. Reynolds' crew pulled their pistols from their holsters and turned towards the remaining members of my crew and Winston.

"Reynolds!" Winston shouted as the drawn pistols backed him up against the wall, "We had a deal!"

Reynolds sighed, obviously a little upset that Winston had interrupted the night's massacre. "Yer righ'. Head ter the ship and tell the crew to be ready ter sail."

I watched in horror as the crew of The Red Serpent commenced in executing my crew one by one, all the while laughing and hollering, having a good time. A voice floated to me above the ruckus.

"Cap'n Chamberlain, if ye would be so kind as ter come ter me," Reynolds spoke as two men came at me from behind, pushing me forward.

Sloppy tears streamed down my face as I stepped around a lifeless arm and made my way towards Reynolds. I kept my head held high, trying not to look at the bodies that littered the floor as if they were common trash. I urged my feet to walk forward to Reynolds who stood there, looking extremely pleased and nose crinkled in disgust. As soon as I came close enough, he grabbed my hair and pulled me roughly to his hard chest. He yanked my chin up so I looked directly into his merciless eyes.

"Now I will make ye watch as e'erthin' ye have ever loved dies in front of ye," he whispered into my ear as another fatal shot rang out behind us. I flinched in his hands and he pushed away from him.

Without a moment's hesitation, he knocked my feet from out under me, and I crumpled to the floor with a sick crunch, successfully snapping my ankle neatly in two. Little black spots fogged my vision as I groaned in pain while trying to stabilize my broken bone, but Reynolds had already kicked open the tavern door and started dragging me by the hair out onto the soggy streets. The gusty wind had changed dramatically into a light breeze, and the seemingly never ending rain that had splattered down from the heavens was now nowhere to be found. Reynolds marched us both out into the middle of the street and stopped only for a minute to tighten his fist in my brown locks. Once satisfied with his grip, he took off at a trot as he heaved me kicking and screaming through the thick mud. I instantly regretted thrashing about as my ankle came down on a jagged rock, causing me to almost pass out. Men from the taverns had poked their heads out to see what the commotion was all about, and some were starting to gather on the streets in mild interest. I screamed for help, but none would come to my aid, too frightened that they would be killed themselves.

Suddenly Reynolds stopped and released my hair, making me lose my balance and fall face first into the brown muck. I sat up to my knees, cursing, as I wiped the gobs of mud from my eyes and face. Reynolds rubbed his hands together, and I watched with narrowed eyes as I saw a chunk of my hair that had been pulled out, tumble to the ground like a leaf.

Reynolds hefted me up with one hand by the front of my shirt as his other clasped around the tender skin of my neck, his fingers digging in deeply, making more bruises. My feet now dangled a few inches above the ground as my broken ankle dangled lamely, swinging to and fro. He watched with a psychotic grin as I struggled to breathe, only letting go when I was on the brink of passing out. As his rough fingers left my neck, I coughed, sucking in fresh air greedily, letting it circulate to my lungs and brain. When I regained my breath, he roughly grabbed my dirt caked face and turned it towards the brilliant ships that were docked. A scintillating orange glow illuminated the night sky like a shooting star. The aroma of charred oak and cotton crept to my nostrils, making my eyes water.

"Ye see tha'? Tha's not the sun in the early morin' hours, no. Tha's yer father's legacy on fire. E'erythin' and e'eryone he gave ye is now dead. Next time ye see him, tell 'im I'm comin' fer 'im," he spat as he pushed my face away causing me to fall on my ankle again. I yelped in agony as he nodded to someone behind me. I twirled around on my bottom and a swift punch was skillfully delivered to my face and then darkness enveloped my senses.

**A/N:**** Please review! Push the little button and go!**


	3. Chapter 2: Are You DAFT!

Chapter 2: Are Ye Daft

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. Unfortunately for Ella, she does belong to me. Poor girl.

A/N: Okay I am _**begging **_now. Please REVIEW. I have over 150 hits and only FIVE reviews. –lesigh-. PLEASE. I would also like to thank my amazing beta, **Angel's Star** for helping me with everything and thank you to the people who have reviewed. :)

**Chapter 2: Are Ye Daft?!  
**

The warm morning sun held firm on the horizon of the clear cerulean sky as the giant yellow orb began to make its slow ascent, casting golden rays on the ghost town that was Tortuga. It was common knowledge to the inhabitants and the passer-by's of said pirate port that Tortuga's festivities only occurred during the late evening hours after the hot sun dipped out of sight, allowing the stars to appear in the onyx sheet of the night sky, like pin pricks. Morning had finally made its presence and now that the blistering sun had finally poked itself through the puffy clouds, the people retreated to the inside of the dank environments of the taverns and inns, like vampires, to nurse hangovers and fresh injuries they could have sustained from rough housing the night before. Brutal sunlight cascaded down, penetrating every nook and cranny between the crumbling walls of the abused and ransacked buildings as it helped dry the town of the abusive rain pellets that had struck for a full week.

Birds chirped a happy greeting to each other somewhere off in the distant emerald trees that blended nicely with the picturesque background as the sun continued to rise higher in the sky, throwing long shadows across every surface. The tweeting of the content birds pulled me sluggishly out of the limbo between the conscious world and the dream world that I had been forced to slip into the night before. I focused intently to the peaceful singing of the song birds as I cracked an eye open, breaking the dense layer of dried mud that clung to my lashes. The shattered clumps dropped into my eyes, causing them to water and burn. I blinked rapidly, trying to force the dirt out of my blood shot and bone dry eyes. After my blinking fit subdued, a searing, hot pain ripped through my skull and I cringed against the bright, but welcome sunlight that was warming my bones.

_At least I know I'm alive_, I thought bitterly as the throbbing slid through my battered head again. I pondered the thought of moving, but came to the conclusion to stay perfectly still for the time being as I became astutely aware of the various aches and pains that coursed throughout my entire being. Places on my person I didn't know could be sore, hurt with a vengeance. Recollections from the night before slithered through my mind, like a snake as feelings of rage and disgust blossomed in my stomach and chest. My hands tightened into small furious, shaking fists at my side. My nails dug severely into my palms, causing blood to spurt out onto the dusty street. I threw my head back and let out a scream of anguish as I ferociously clawed at the crusty mud that encased my body in a tight hold, like iron shackles. Curious, I carefully examined my progress as blood seeped out from around my fingernails and I let out a tired and defeated sigh. I congratulated myself bitterly when I finally took notice that I was free of my restraints.

A lone puddle sat next to me, bristling in outward ripples as the sea breeze blew from all directions. I bent over to examine my face in the glassy surface and almost chocked. In all my years of pirating, I had never felt more disgusted with my appearance than I did at this point. Mud had dried to my clothes, skin, and hair in a generous array of clumps. My face sported a disgusting and odorous mixture of dried blood and dirt. A hefty, violet bruise swelled around my left eye and felt as if it were growing larger with each passing moment. I passed my fingers along the edge of the bruise, wincing slightly. The entire length of my body was covered in a salty residue from dried sweat. My arms were covered in small jagged cuts made by the almost invisible rocks that were concealed beneath the surface of the now dried, cracked streets I had been yanked through. I looked down at my ankle and groaned inwardly as I became reacquainted with the unnatural angle it had been shaped into. The wind stirred again, swirling around the scent of copper and earth, the scent of my skin. I crinkled my nose against the strong aroma. Sighing again, I decided to try and attempt to stand up and hissed in pain as I tried to stand, jostling the broken bone none too kindly. I huffed in annoyance and plopped back down into a laying position as a cloud of dust billowed up around me, reaching my lungs and forcing me into an acute coughing attack.

_This is going to be a long day_, I thought miserably as I forced my eyes to close against the throbbing in my head and ankle that seemed to be getting worse. I shifted to find a more comfortable position and my head spun even more erratically than before, blurring the distinct edges of my vision. A feeling of nausea enveloped in my stomach as I held my eyes tightly shut, urging myself not to vomit. I altered my position again, finally finding a suitable angle at which to lie. _Might as well as get cozy_, I thought as a black shadow suddenly cast itself over my face, changing the shade of the back of my eyelids from a blood red to black in a matter of seconds.

"Look's as if ye could use some help, luv," said the now familiar voice of Captain Jack Sparrow. My eyes shot open and I chagrinned at him, but still thoroughly grateful that he was there. He extended his dirty hand toward me as he leaned over my body, blocking out the sun's rays with his lean and muscular frame. A grim look stretched across his handsome face as he took in my over all appearance. I watched as his chocolate eyes flinched when his gaze lingered a bit longer than necessary on my irregular bent ankle.

I propped myself up on my elbows and peered up at him through my swollen eyes. "Yes, I guess you're right."

I reached up and laced my fingers through his. He yanked me up into a sitting position, catching me as gravity took hold of my body and tilted it dangerously back towards the earth. Charms jingling with every movement, Sparrow nodded his head in approval when my swaying body finally steadied. He walked off to somewhere behind me, tripping over a large rock that could have been considered a boulder. A fit of silent giggles erupted from my chest as Captain Sparrow cursed heavily. I was still giggling when his heavy footsteps stopped somewhere behind me. Strong, ringed, hands clasped themselves around my upper arms and lifted me gracefully onto one foot. I involuntarily leaned my body into Sparrow, putting most of my weight on him. He wrapped one of my arms around his neck, while his arm snaked around my waist to hold my rocking body still. I gritted my teeth as my ankle bumped into Sparrow's leg.

"I'll take ye back ter my ship. Gibbs will patch ye up there," Sparrow proclaimed as he spun me in the direction of the docks. We hobbled off towards Captain Jack's ship, like a competitor in a three legged race.

"Why are you doing this? You don't owe me anything," I stated through clenched teeth as we took off at a speed slower than that of a snail.

"Aye I don't, but Jacob wasn't the only one who was a friend of yer father's and I owe him quite a lot."

My eyes grew to the size of apples. I ceased moving and looked up at him with interest. Captain Jack Sparrow friends with my father?

His gaze lowered to my dumbstruck face. "Don' look so surprised Miss Chamberlain. Yer father was a well liked and respected man among many pirates. I jus' had no idea tha' he gave 'is ship ter ye."

"It's Captain Chamberlain. You knew that he had a daughter then," I said making the question sound more like a statement.

"Aye I knew ye existed but never had the privilege to meet ye. I met yer father when he was thirty years old and I was the mere age of twenty and just startin' off piratin'. Ye were already ten years old, and he mentioned ye ter me. Since I was not much older than ye, I don' think he wanted me ter meet ye because of my reputation with females," he chuckled.

"Actually he probably didn't allow you to meet me because the last man he did introduce to me, ended up killing my mother," I muttered darkly, lost in the memories of my past.

"A good of reason as any ter keep us from meetin' so many years ago, but now it seems destiny has other plans."

I nodded in agreement. "Its times like these I'm not entirely convinced that fate does not have a sense of humor."

He half smiled and we fell into a comfortable silence, trotting along, obviously in no hurry as we slowly made progress. The wind had picked up again, bringing with it the familiar odor of Tortuga as it whipped my hair into glorious brunette knots behind my slender shoulders. Dust floated off my skin, forming a cloud that looked like a monstrous sand storm behind me. The golden sun now hung low in the sky directly overhead. The rays rippled down, causing a fresh layer of sweat to bead on my skin. Sparrow spoke, breaking the quiet that we had elapsed into.

"I'm used to gels clucthin' on me, but these circumstances are indeed a tad different than tha' of me normal routine," Sparrow mused conversationally as he swiftly let go of my arm that was glued to his neck and swatted a wasp that buzzed threateningly next to his ear.

I smirked. "Like I said last night, I'm not like most girls."

Sparrow grinned like a mad man as we finally wobbled the last couple hundred of feet to the entrance of the docks. We stopped in unison for a much needed rest from the short trek we endured. Sparrow helped me to take a seat on an abandoned wooden crate that sat drooping slightly from a grassy, mold that had begun to climb skyward on one side. I found the most comfortable position was to sit on the edge of the crate and let my injured ankle dangle freely.

"Sparrow could you carry me to the remains of my ship? I'd like very much to say good-bye."

"Aye, 'tis on the way."

"Thank you," I said genuinely pleased that he had agreed. I smiled at him, but his contagious gold and silver smirk had turned into a deep frown.

"I 'ave a question for ye," Jack announced, pointing a long finger at me, "Why don' ye talk like a pirate?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "My father had the accent, but my mother never did. I guess it just didn't stick with me."

"Well ye sound like some prissy noble," Sparrow accused, picking at a stray piece of thread that dangled from the sleeve of his shirt.

"At least I don't sound like a bumbling idiot," I retorted, fighting the childish urge to stick my tongue out at him.

Sparrow opened his mouth to speak, but when nothing came out he closed it and an awkward silence surrounded us. I tapped my fingers lightly on the rotten wood of my seat.

"So," I said, fidgeting uncomfortably. "Which ship belongs to the famous Captain Jack Sparrow?"

He smiled brightly at the though of his pride and joy. The Black Pearl.

"It's the las' one at the end," Sparrow explained with a loving twinkle in his eye as he motioned with a nod towards the end of the dock. "The Pearl likes 'er privacy."

I nodded my head in understanding as I looked apprehensively at the long wooden dock that stood mockingly ahead of me. I could actually hear the planks laughing and jeering at me, telling me to just quit and give up because I would never make it to the end. That's when an epiphany came tumbling out of the sky, like Zeus himself threw a lightning bolt at my frame. I almost fell backwards at the shock of this realization. I could make it to the end of this journey, wherever that may be, with a broken ankle and a beaten body covered in mud, I just needed help.

I swiveled sharply on my perch to face Sparrow who was pacing feverishly a few feet away, whispering urgently to himself as he waved his hands about in spastic movements, like he was swatting away invisible insects. I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if the sun had finally taken its toll on the man's brain. I cleared my throat loudly, hoping to catch his adverted attention.

Sparrow stopped mid-step, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. He straightened his hat and turned toward me, placing his hands on his narrow hips in a feminine way.

"How would you like to help me? Seeing as I am in the need of a ship and safe passage this is the perfect opportunity for the both of us," I rambled as I ran my fingers through my matted hair.

Sparrow pressed a finger to his chin and thought a moment before answering.

"What are ye talkin' about, luv?" Sparrow questioned, walking towards me.

"That map that Reynolds needs The Key for, I intend to steal it back. It belongs in its rightful owner's hands, and whatever we find, you can have half," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Sparrow stood their ogling like I had grown an extra set of arms. He had a stormy look in his eyes I couldn't quite decipher.

He stared incredulously at me. "How do you know that this map even leads to treasure?"

"I don't," I said matter of factly.

"Are ye daft?!" Sparrow erupted at me. "Runnin' towards danger does not make sense...Now runnin' away is a different story, and its somethin' ye should think about doin' because danger is not the best thing for ye in yer present condition," Sparrow eyed my ankle before continuing, "Plus ye don' even know if this map leads to a treasure."

I leapt up onto one foot, standing my ground and instantly stumbled forward. Sparrow appeared beside me, as fast as a fleeting image of a ghost to catch my free falling body. I placed my sweaty palms on his hard chest and pushed him away stubbornly as I found my balance like a practiced ballerina.

"Yes I want to go after him. That man deserves to die for the hardships he has put my father and me through!" I exclaimed, eyes flashing darkly.

"Reynolds has terrorized these oceans fer longer than ye have been alive. He has ruined many families by killin' fathers, mothers, an' children. Children fer Christ's sake," Sparrow fumed. "What makes ye think tha' ye, a woman with hardly any real piratin' practice, can defeat him? When e'erethin' tha' most of us pirates had to work fer was just givin' ter ye."

"Because I'm the only one that's willing to try," I breathed, looking directly into Sparrow's eyes.

I studied him cautiously, patiently waiting for his answer as he internally debated with himself. A range of emotions flickered over his features. I watched how his face changed from a mask of joy to a mask of fear in seconds. I wondered what was going in that incredibly diabolical head of his. Most people believed this man to be an imbecile, but deep down in the depths of his brain, a mastermind sat silently, planned his every move, like a chess player. I chuckled at this thought. _Ha, Sparrow diabolical?_ I cocked my head to the side, still trying to read his face. After what seemed like hours, Sparrow's voice rang out suddenly, making me jump.

"Aye, I agree ter help you on yer endeavor."

I gaped at him, stunned. "Are you sure? What about the whole 'running from danger' speech?"

"Unfortunately I am sure, but I'm only in this for the treasure," he reminded me as he slipped his arm around my waist again, tugging me down the docks. "Besides, sometimes ye have to run towards danger to stay away from it because they would ne'er expect ye ter do somethin' tha' stupid."

"You know that actually made sense," I said after sorting his words and jumbled thoughts.

He grinned crookedly. "This had better be worth it or ye are goin' to owe me a lot more than jus' yer life."

I nodded my head slowly, not at all surprised by his words. We fell into another silent spell as we took off down the wooden dock. I winced inwardly when we arrived at the watery grave of my sunken ship. Sparrow released me and I hopped forward to gaze into the clear Caribbean water, charred oak and mahogany stared back at me through the clear liquid, past the fishes swimming lazily in their separate schools. I sighed, wondering how I was going to explain this to my father. I mouthed a silent farewell to my best friend as a single tear dropped off the tip of my nose and landed in the water. I made a promise to myself right there that I would no longer shed tears for my crew or my ship. I would be strong for them both.

I shook my head, erasing the painful memories for the time being and turned back to Sparrow's waiting arms. We walked the last hundred feet to the half rotten gangplank of The Pearl with our heads held high.

&

Once safely aboard The Pearl, Sparrow began spitting out orders right and left, pulling me along like a helpless rag doll as the crew shot me puzzled looks before running off to do their duties. I watched as the men scurried about the deck immersed in their chores. Pulling my tired eyes from the crew, I saw an older man with graying, brown, wispy hair and impressive sideburns approach us from his previous station at the helm.

"Cap'n who be this? Wha's goin' on?" asked the older man, cocking his head in my direction.

"Mr. Gibbs this is Miss Ella Chamberlain, daughter of Cap'n Evan Chamberlain. And we are goin' ter help her find Captain Reynolds," Sparrow explained, loosening his hold on me.

I narrowed my eyes at Sparrow. "It's Captain Chamberlain."

Gibbs' face paled drastically as he turned towards me, looking completely apprehensive towards my presence. Sparrow ignored my comment completely and continued as if he had not been interrupted. "As ye can see Mr. Gibbs Miss Chamberlain is in need of medical assistance. So would you be so kind as ter get her a bath, change of clothes, and perhaps a split fer tha' nasty lookin' break she has."

Gibbs' face paled even more as his features contorted into a mask of pure fear. "Cap'n, don't ye think tha' this job should be appointed ter someone... tha's not me?"

Sparrow rolled his eyes. "Gibbs I believe tha' it is the time fer ye to get over yer superstitious inclinations. I'm sure tha' Miss Chamberlain will prove tha' she is not bad luck. Plus I was given a guarantee tha' she will behave herself. Isn't tha' right, luv?"

"It's Captain Chamberlain, Mr. Sparrow," I growled, as Sparrow reliquished his overly possessive hold on my waist. "And yes I will behave."

"Cap'n Jack Sparrow," he corrected, eyes twinkling as a smirk played across his lips. "Ah, see Gibbs, no worries."

"But Cap'n-," Gibbs started, but stopped when he locked eyes with his captain who was giving him a stern look. "We need a heading."

Sparrow turned towards me, as he placed his hands together like he might drop to his knees and start chanting a prayer. "Aye, I'd like very much ter know tha' myself."

Gibbs shot an "I can't believe you trust her" look at Sparrow before facing me.

I grinned toothily at both men. "Our heading is west to a little island just a little north of the Vera Cruz port."

"And what is at said island?" Jack asked, giving me a sideways glance.

"My father," I stated, shrugging. "It's his retirement home. He's the one who has had the most experience in dealing with Reynolds. If anyone could give us information it would be him."

Jack placed a hand over his heart and gasped dramatically. "Ye mean ter tell me tha' ye actually know where yer father is? Ye little lyin' vixen, ye," Sparrow tsk-tsked at me while giving me a large wink.

"Ah, sounds like a good plan," Gibbs said, putting in his shilling's worth.

Jack nodded before pushing me into Gibbs unwilling arms. I watched in mild amusement as Sparrow clapped Gibbs on the back than swaggered away to bark even more orders at his bogged down men. Gibbs softly pulled me into the massive Captain's quarters. Gibbs kicked open the fragile looking oak doors and helped me to take a much needed seat on the goose down bed that was adorned with white cotton sheets. After a quick moment, he left without so much as saying one word to me, but muttering to himself about bad luck. As soon as the magnificent oak doors clicked shut, I let my eyes wonder to my surroundings. Sparrow's cherry oak desk sat on the opposite side of the room and was littered with multiple pieces of parchment that had been crumpled up into paper wads, and ink casks that were half full with various quills sticking out from their depths. Indigo ink stains and water blotches covered most of the desk's surface. Broken quills sat untouched and forgotten, gathering dust beneath the desk on the wooden floor. A tattered bookshelf sat directly behind his desk, holding tattered maps and books, giving the cabin a musty smell. In the far corner of the room piled high were numerous empty, glass rum bottles. In the opposite far corner sat an armoire that was in need of a decent scrubbing. The creaking of the door's rusty hinges shook me from my observations.

Gibbs reentered the cabin with an extra set of clothes draped over his shoulder and a short wooden plank and a long white piece of fabric in both of his hands. Three other men entered as well. One I recognized immediately as Sparrow who was carrying a large bottle of rum and a bar of soap. The other two however, I had not met yet and they carried a large basin, sloshing with steaming warm water.

"Alright," Gibbs spoke up as he approached me with Sparrow following close behind with the bottle of rum. "We are goin' ter have ter put a splint on yer ankle first so it doesn't get worse."

The two men carrying the water basin dropped it, causing a large metal clang to ring out throughout the entire cabin as water tidal waved over the side, soaking the wood floor. They exited the room with an anxious backwards glance at me, both of their heads bowed together in muted whispers.

"Okay," I sighed, gritting my teeth. "Let's get this over with."

Sparrow handed me the bottle of rum. I looked at it hesitantly.

"Its fer the pain, luv," Sparrow explained as the corner of his mouth twitched into his famous gold and silver smirk.

I inspected the bottle once more with an over critical eye before forcefully removing the cork with my teeth and taking a large swig. I coughed as soon as the amber substance burned all the way down and a light headedness already started to cloud my mind. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as I held up the bottle in front of the light to examine it once more.

I coughed again. "What is this stuff? Poison?"

Sparrow smirked at me. "Wha' love? Can't hold yer liquor?"

My eyes narrowed at him. "Yes I can, but I've never had liquor this strong before." I took another giant drink of the liquid.

Sparrow's warm brown eyes locked with mine. "It's from India. A sage gave it ter me. Told me ter use it when I was in pain. Is it helpin'?"

I shrugged my shoulders, taking another deep drink from the cask. "I already have somewhat of a buzz."

Sparrow smiled a knowing smile at me. "Soon ye will be flat on yer arse, stiff drunk."

I scoffed, lifting the vile to my lips again and drinking another large gulp. "For some reason I highly doubt that."

Sparrow shrugged his shoulders and clapped his hands eagerly as he plopped down behind me on the bed. "Now come ter me, luv."

I downed another swig of rum as Gibbs advanced on me, an old, tarnished dagger held firmly next to his wide hip. Sparrow's arms encased my shoulders in a firm hold and pulled me back to stabilize my body. I fell heavily against his muscled chest and let out a small 'oomph'. The haziness in my mind continued to grow outward.

"Wait a minute," I slurred, feeling the affects of the strong rum. "What's the knife for?"

Sparrow chuckled softly in my ear. "Darlin' ye don't expect us ter yank off yer boot with a broken ankle do ye?"

"No, I guess not," I muttered as Gibbs kneeled on the floor in front of my position from the bed. I lifted the rum bottle to my lips and drank the remaining portion. The cloud had taken full control of my bodily functions.

"Please hold still. If ye move ye could make the break even worse," Gibbs informed me as he gently propped my leg up with his knee.

I giggled drunkingly, feeling ashamed I couldn't hold this liquor better. Patting Gibbs' cheek I stammered, "O-okay Gibbsy."

Sparrow's chest began to vibrate with laughter as Gibbs shook his head in a disapproving manner. Making a move towards my leather boot with his dagger held high, Gibbs began to make careful and gentle slices through the worn leather. I hissed in pain as the boot was finally removed from my foot with one last tug.

I could barely feel Gibbs fingers caress my ankle as he deliberated the severity of the break. Once done, he cleared his throat and addressed the anxiously awaiting Sparrow and I.

"Well I have some good news and bad news. Good news is tha' yer ankle is only dislocated, bad news we have to pop in back in place," Gibbs announced, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"Well that is infinitesimally better news than a broken ankle," I stumbled through the sentence, giggling when Sparrows beard braids tickled along my forehead. I swiftly reached up to tug gently on the coarse objects. After many attempts I found one and gave a pull.

Sparrow's face turned into a mask of pain as he yelped loudly, swatting my hands away. I chuckled, taking another long drink of the rum grasped tightly on my hand.

"Gibbs? Can ye speed this up?" Jack growled, massaging his chin as he eyed my hands.

"Alrigh' on the count of three," Gibbs prompted as I closed my eyes and held my breath. "One, two-"

Snap.

I sobered immediately and my eyes welled up with tears as I felt the sickening feeling of my bone sliding on bone and felt it smoothly go back to its proper place. I yelped again as Gibbs made one last jerk and a final snap. I watched him rotate my ankle as purple and black spots filled my vision and I didn't know if it was from the liquor or the pain. My head lolled to the side and I reached up to wipe away the layer of sweat that had formed. Gibbs slowly and skillfully wove the white gauze around my tender ankle.

Wiping his hands on his pants, Gibbs stood up and Sparrow shifted out from under me.

"Now get cleaned up and try not to get the bandage wet," Gibbs said as he walked towards the grand oak doors of the entrance of Sparrow's quarters.

I nodded and the door clicked shut. Wobbling forward, I snatched the soap and change of clothes from their spots and retreated to the large metal basin. I stripped my filthy and unwanted clothes from my body and tossed them in a pile. Sighing, I lowered myself into the lukewarm liquid, making sure to keep my now healing ankle from the watery surface. I smiled as the water licked around my tense muscles, relaxing me into a state of calm I had rarely ever been in. Once comfortable, I scrubbed my body furiously, releasing myself from the remainder of the crusty dirt that still hung to my skin. I gently dabbed at my face around the tender spot of the bruise, wiping away any traces of dried blood. When I felt satisfied that all traces of dirt, blood, and sweat had been removed, I dragged myself from the now murky water and dried off. I tossed the too big clothes that had been provided for me on and decided not to complain. Hell, Sparrow could have made me walk around naked. I chuckled to myself at this thought, not putting it past him as I sat down on the bed and slid my one boot I had left over my exposed foot. I arose quickly from the bed and hobbled out onto the warm, sun drenched deck, ready for an adventure.

**A/N: ** DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW PLEASE!!


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